Citizenship
by qwanderer
Summary: Daire Rogers is growing up fierce and brave, like her father, and a determined defender of justice, like her mother. She isn't five yet, but she has a lot to deal with. Almost as much as the adults around her, her family, the Avengers. - Slash: Hulkeye and Frostiron; het: Warshield and Thane. Midnight Mystery series. Kidfic. Dragons. Clones. Medical problems.
1. Chapter 1

Steve Rogers sat in a huge armchair by the fire in his and Sif's house on Asgard, a gurgling six-month-old boy in his lap, chewing on one of his sleeves. The beautiful blue material, embroidered with white flowers, was becoming very quickly sodden, but Steve didn't care at all.

"You like my shirt, Abie?" he asked the boy, ruffling his sparse brown hair. "Sure you wouldn't rather wait for dinner? I'm making mashed potatoes."

Abie only gurgled, smiling through his mouthful of fabric.

"Smashed potatoes?!" Daire asked, popping up next to him and clutching her stuffed owl. "Will Hulk come and smash them for us?"

Steve laughed. "It's not quite a Hulk-sized job, Daire," he said, "but I'll be sure to keep that in mind for next time I have to feed an army. Actually, last time I cooked for an army, Bruce did the potatoes. He's good with them. You think Hulk has the same talent?"

"Yeah!" Daire declared. "Potato master! Hulk Smash Potatoes!" She jumped up and down, miming Hulk's pounding fists. Her golden-brown curls bounced.

"Well, since Hulk isn't here, do you want to help out instead?" Steve asked her. "Potatoes should be just about boiled."

"Can I, Mama? Can I Hulk Smash potatoes?" she asked Steve.

"Absolutely," he answered, vaulting out of the chair and causing Abie to shriek with delight. He strode into the kitchen, and Daire followed, Ivan the plush owl dangling from one hand.

The kitchen in the Asgard house was a strange blend of old, older, and very new technology. Running water came from a rain cistern, and there was no electricity in the house, only fire. But Steve carried propane tanks with him sometimes so that he could cook on a proper gas stove, and there was a tiny icebox that Tony had made for him which ran off the power from an arc pod, and it mostly contained the milk that Sif pumped for Abie when she couldn't be at home for most of the day. She had a PERB unit that she could use to deposit the milk into the cold enclosure from anywhere on Asgard.

He set Abie on a blanket in the corner and rolled up his spit-damp sleeves before he opened the pot to check the potatoes. "Yup," he said as he turned off the gas and hauled the pot to the sink. "Just about ready for smashing." He drained the water, and moved the potatoes to a bowl, which he set on the heavy wooden table before going to find the potato masher. Daire climbed onto a chair and stood on it eagerly, Ivan the owl at last coming to rest next to the big bowl of potatoes.

Daire was stronger than the average human four-and-a-half-year-old, but she was no Hulk, and soon she was calling, "Mama! Help me, they won't smash properly!"

Steve withdrew from where he was checking the huge Asgardian game bird in the brick oven, closed the door and returned to Daire's side. "That's pretty good," he said, examining the flattened layer of potatoes over the top of the mound. "Want me to take over and finish up?"

"Yeah," said Daire, handing over the masher and watching in fascination as her mother used his Captain America arms to plow through the potatoes, destroying their lumpiness and transforming them into smooth creamy peaks and hollows.

Next Steve got the roc out of the oven, while Daire went over and put Abie back in the middle of his blanket, which he had nearly escaped by scooting. They were just contemplating setting the table when they heard the front door fly open. "Hello!" a loud female voice cried.

"Daddy!" Daire yelled in answer, and ran in to meet Sif, who lifted Daire high up in the air and swung her around before pulling her in tight and kissing her head. "Mama helped me smash potatoes!"

"Helping with the kitchen chores, eh?" Sif asked, raising her eyebrows at Steve, who was coming out of the kitchen with Abie in his arms.

"Well, Abie here isn't quite old enough yet to help," Steve said, smiling at his husband. "Besides, she was playing at being the Hulk."

"Ah, well, then," Sif said, kissing Daire's head again before setting her down. "Carry on. Smash all you like."

Daire gave her mock-roar and made fists again for her father. Sif laughed indulgently. Then she approached Steve and her young son.

"Ah, young Abraham, and how are you today?" Sif rumbled at the baby boy as Steve handed him over and she held him close. "Keeping busy drooling on everything as usual? Serious business," she said, kissing him, tickling his stomach and then joining in his laughter.

Steve wrapped his arms around both of them, and he felt Daire's slim arm encircle his leather-clad knee, completing the circuit. "Welcome home," he said to Sif.

Sif pulled him in for his own set of kisses, as warm in character but deeper. "Thank you," she answered. "And I smell a feast. What a perfect wife you are for this hungry warrior."

Steve chuckled. "Still haven't gotten used to that," he said. "But it's good to hear. We were just about to set the table. I'll finish up while you change out of your armor." He took Abie from her arms again, and she strode to the bedchambers to change.

Over dinner they spoke of their days, Sif about how Jane had passed her first challenge, the Asgardian version of a written exam, an initial test to check her knowledge and her grasp of the practical skills of living on Asgard. Sif had been her judge on the subject of armor care. Steve spoke of how Daire had done in her lessons that morning. She had a loose homeschooling program put together by Steve and Jarvis, with some input from Loki, and recently she had been working on both letters and runes, learning to spell everyone's name in both.

Daire contributed her opinion on the superiority of runes, saying they were easier because they had less curvy bits and also thorn was the height of efficiency and why didn't English have a letter that sounded like that?

After dinner they sat by the fire, Sif holding a sleeping Abie and Steve with a squirming Daire on his lap, asking questions about the Avengers and when they'd be going back to Earth and how long until Uncle Tony got the internet to work on Asgard?

Steve was just explaining that he could hardly understand what Tony got up to in his lab, let alone predict it, when there was a heavy knock at the door.

"Is it guests? Should we dress?" Daire stood and looked at the door resentfully. She hated the silence required by Asgardian manners.

"I'll see who it is," Steve answered, and went for the door. He looked through the slightly textured glass. "No, we're fine, it's Uncle Thor," he said as he opened the door.

"Uncle Thor!" Daire cried, running to him and throwing her arms up in the direction of most of him. Thor obligingly swung her up, seating her on one broad shoulder.

"Greetings, Daire Sifdottir! How fare you?" he asked.

"I wrote your name today," she said. "It's much easier in runes. Why doesn't everywhere use runes?"

"Because there are as many ways of writing words as there are people who write them," he answered. "All the Realms are different, and if it were not so, the universe would be much less interesting."

"Well, I like runes," Daire said.

"Any news about Jane?" Steve asked, looking at Thor's not entirely jovial expression with slight worry.

"No, she will not face another challenge until tomorrow," Thor told him. "What brings me here is a threat to Reginunn and his family. It has become known that they wish to associate more closely with the Aesir, and that has led to many raiders trying to take their trove, believing that their gold belongs rightfully in Aesir hands. Heimdall told me that they plan to attack en masse tomorrow, but I cannot leave the city while Jane's challenges are underway."

Steve looked worried. "Yeah, I see the problem. Sif, do you need to be in the city for the challenge tomorrow, too?"

"No," she answered. "I can go to defend the dragons. But what of the children? I would not have them on Asgard without us while anti-dragon sentiment is so high."

"You're right," said Steve. "I'll take them to Earth, find someone to watch them and then I'll come back and join you."

"We're going back to Jarvis and internet and Avengers!" Daire said sing-song from Thor's shoulder. "Who will watch us?"

"I don't know who's around," Steve answered, holding out his arms to take her from Thor. "Let's go pack your bags. I think Darcy and Peter are away at a conference, telling people about dragons and showing their photos. Aunt Natasha's on mission. Maybe one of your human uncles, or Uncle Josh."

"Nobody else has a blue uncle," Daire said, squirming and laughing.

"That's right, you're very lucky," Steve said, setting her down in her room. "Now go make sure you have everything you want for a few days." He went to pack Abie's bags.

* * *

Steve settled his kids into their Stark Tower apartment, tucking Abie into his crib and settling Daire with her much-missed computer access, and told Jarvis to tell him if they needed anything before going to look for the others.

He went in search of Tony first, since Jarvis told him that the billionaire was in one of his labs, a relatively public area, while Bruce and Clint were in their room, and Loki was currently off-grid.

"Hey, Capsicle," Tony said when he entered. "Didn't expect you back for another couple of days. Jane get kicked to the curb by that holier-than-thou-literally tyrant already?"

"No, she's doing well so far," Steve said. "But the dragon-related violence has been escalating and we really wanted to set the kids up as far away from that as possible. I'm planning on joining Sif in settling it as soon as I can, but I need someone to look after them for us."

Tony's dawning expresson and horrified silence might have been comical if Steve didn't really need someone to step up right now and help him. "No. _Oh_ no," Tony said, backing up slightly. "Rugrats? Really not my thing. Besides, I'm busy. So is Josh. I need him for things. Hey, you should ask Bruce. He's been dying to hang with the Caplets. Go on, do that. Don't come back." And Tony disappeared through his dimensional door.

Steve sighed. "I don't suppose he's likely to change his mind?" he asked the not-so-empty air.

"No, Captain Rogers, I do not believe so. Also, he is no longer within the domain of my surveillance, and Jasper refuses to share his data with me. I believe I am beginning to dislike my lunar successor."

"Nuts. Well, what about Bruce and Clint? Would they mind me stopping in now?"

Jarvis answered to the effect that they were available, although the moment Steve stepped into their living area, he could see that Clint was on his way out. He was halfway into his coat, and he had a boot in one hand and was hunting for the other. Bruce, on the other hand, greeted Steve with a wave and a little twist of a smile.

"Hey, Steve, what's up?" he asked.

"Things are getting a little bit hairy on Asgard, so I'm dropping the kids here and trying to find someone to watch them for a couple days."

Bruce's expression held alarm, surprise, and, just a little proof that Tony wasn't talking completely out of his ass, a little glimmer of interest and joy. Then he frowned. "I really don't think I'm the guy you're looking for."

Clint turned his attention from the search for his second boot to look at Bruce. "Hey, maybe you are. You wanna let him decide?" The tone of it was one of reminder, a facet of an argument they had had many times.

"I trust you with them," Steve agreed. "Can't think of anyone better."

"What about _any other Avenger?_" Bruce said, frustration mixing with disbelief.

"Tony swore at me when I asked him and now he's hiding on the moon, think he's holed up with Loki. If you don't want to do it..."

Bruce breathed out noisily. "I didn't say _that._ I just want to make sure you're sure. And that there's someone else around... just in case I get upset."

Clint stopped again to look at the both of them. "You know what? I'm gonna call up Kate, say today's not a good time for lessons after all, unless she wants to come to the Tower. I'll be on call for the brats. But Bruce, you're top of the list, okay? I'm just backup."

Bruce looked at him with knowing affection and annoyance. "All right, fine. I suppose I can handle that." But the joy dancing in his eyes belied his reluctant acceptance.

"Thank you," Steve told them. "Both of you. I'm gonna get back to Asgard, back up Sif. I need to know someone's got them. Having you two here is a weight off my mind."

Clint grinned and winked at Steve. Bruce shook his head, but he was smiling.


	2. Chapter 2

So Uncle Bruce had been the one to put the kids to bed, which, in Abie's case, just meant checking in to see that he was still sleeping. Bruce stood over him for a moment, watching him breathe and deciding whether to reach out and stroke his cheek. But he didn't.

Daire demanded a story, which Bruce was happy to read, and then a goodnight kiss, which he determinedly allowed himself to provide, and Hulk was getting downright annoyed at Bruce's caution, so he quickly finished the tuck-in procedure and shut Daire's door. He stood outside for a moment, appreciating that he could be a part of this beautiful family, no matter how small a part.

"Javvie, why is Uncle Bruce so sad?" he heard from the quiet on the other side of the door.

Bruce did not stick around to hear Jarvis's answer.

* * *

The sun rose over the Asgardian wilderness, and two raiders, eager to get their pick of the hoard that would soon be decimated, snuck ahead to see if they could catch the dragons unawares.

But they rounded a rocky corner, and there was the Goddess of War, armor shining, feet planted slightly apart and the tip of a hand and a half sword resting between them, arms leaning against the guard.

"I would ask you what you think your business is here," Sif said deceptively casually.

The raiders visibly quailed. It only took the lifting of her sword point out of its place in the dirt before they were running, back to where they had come from, presumably, to join the others who waited in force.

Then Sif heard a step behind her, and she swung around, but it was Steve, clad in the colors of his nation and hefting his shield, ready to join in battle. She grinned at him. "Captain!" she greeted him. "I see you have come to join the fray!"

"Fast as I could," he answered, nodding. "Bruce and Clint have the kids. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Nothing of note," she said. "I have yet to swing my blade. I think the raiders were not prepared to have real warriors facing them, and now they will know, but they have never faced anything like you. Once they know your prowess, we may send them running yet again without spilling a drop of blood."

"We can always hope," Steve said. "But I wouldn't bet on it. Most people who go out to fight are determined to defend their way of life, and I'd guess that applies to dragon slayers as well."

Sif told him the gist of the plan: they would take one quarter of the perimeter, while Reginunn, Hallkatla and her brother Anghamarr took the other three. They took their positions and waited.

The raiders were much more daring en masse, but still, they were no match for Captain America, Lady Sif, and three full-grown, battle-hardened dragons protecting their young.

And the outlaw Aesir did fall back after a first push towards the hoard, and Hallkatla took the lull as an opportunity to go and talk to Steve.

"As a mother," she said, "you can understand how frightened I am for my children right now. I envy you the ability to move Abraham and Daire to safer realms. But Midgard is unknown to us, and beyond our reach, and the other realms even moreso. And yet I am becoming desperate enough to ask if you could find a way to bring us there."

"Tony and I have been discussing that, actually," Steve said, patting Kat on her huge shimmering blue nose. "The PR experts are making real headway with generating positive opinions towards dragons among the people of Earth, and Tony's got an old house on a decent-sized piece of property, not too far from the tower. He's willing to offer it to you and your family."

"Truly?" Hallkatla asked, great eyes glistening.

"I can't promise less danger," Steve warned. "Earth is full of unexpected disasters and people who want to cause destruction for any number of reasons. But I can promise there will be more people ready to come to your aid."

"I will consider that, then," said Kat. "And send my undying thanks to your Man of Iron."

"I will," Steve promised. "And we still have to figure a way to get all of you, and your hoard, through to Earth. Tony calculates that nothing short of the Bifrost would move everything at once, and he, Jane and Josh are working on building a second one for Earth, but it's still years away. They haven't gotten around the question of how to operate it without the kind of knowledge that Heimdall has. So for now, the contingency plan is for Josh to teleport your kids and a bit of your hoard - he says that's just about his limit, even at his peak of power - and the rest of us would make a run for the Bifrost. And we're still not sure if Heimdall would come down on our side. We're trying to think of something else."

"I hope it does not come to that," said Hallkatla, "but it is heartening to know that the request does not come as a shock."

"Of course not," said Steve. "I worry about your children almost as much as mine."

"If the other inhabitants of Earth are half as extraordinary as you," Hallkatla replied, "I think our family will do just fine there."

And she flew back to her position on the perimeter, head held higher, and more hopeful by far.

* * *

Panic and anger and desperation shot through Bruce, and he struggled against them; he feared what would happen if he lost control. No, not here, not now. Why not was unclear; all he could see was blackness, all he could hear was a hissing, continuous and unending, almost a scream, like a tea kettle, or a woman, or a little girl. He fought between action and inaction, between holding on and letting go. He couldn't move properly, and the panic was winning, and oh no, no, not this time...

Then there was a hand on his shoulder, and a softer noise, a shush, so familiar, and he woke with a jolt all through his body, but this was a bed he knew, and a touch he knew - Clint's - and everything was normal, or relatively so. He breathed deep, seeking Hulk, trying not to shut out his other half as old habits would have, trying to settle them both.

Clint was quiet through this process, knowing to wait for Bruce to speak first. But the hand was there, and it helped, and Hulk was confused and unsettled but willing to listen when Bruce told him that he had been wrong, there was no danger, and Clint was right here, right by their side.

Bruce calmed, and he curled into Clint's side, seeking comfort, and Clint's hand moved across his back. It was still a few minutes before he felt ready to speak.

"This is ridiculous," he said finally. "I know I have control, I trust Hulk to do the right thing most of the time. But for so long I've been afraid of certain things, and I can't just stop being afraid because it's not logical anymore. There's too much of it. Too much fear and rage and awful things. They'll always come back."

"It's okay," said Clint. "Hey, you don't have to be perfect. Nobody is. You're doing great. You know that, right?"

Bruce grunted noncommittally. "Come with me this time, all right? I can do this, I just want you there. Please?"

"Yeah, of course," said Clint. "I... sorry if that was a little bit pushy, yesterday. I didn't know it would be that bad."

"No, it's... nothing you did. I need to deal with all of this."

"All right," said Clint, mild and amiable. "I'm with you. Especially if you're gonna make one of your famous breakfasts. Abie eating eggs yet?"

"I don't think so. Jarvis has the list, but I'll probably just give him a little banana and one of the bottles Steve brought. Eggs sound good for me and Daire, though. Anything else you want?"

Clint smiled. He knew there was very little that would bring Bruce out of one of his slumps more reliably than planning a meal. "Chocolate chip pancakes," he said, secure in the knowledge that the more complicated the request, the more Bruce would enjoy filling it. Also? Chocolate.

"That solves the problem of what to do with the rest of the banana," Bruce mused, his brain as always examining factors and chasing efficiency. He climbed out of bed and went to find clothes. "Jarvis, any ingredients missing from the Rogers kitchen?"

"Only if you wish to add your habitual dash of cardamom to the standard recipe," the AI answered. "Also, I should inform you that Abraham is awake and requesting attention."

Clint rolled out of bed and threw on a shirt to go with his pajama pants. "You about ready, or should I go get that?" he called to Bruce.

Bruce came out of their kitchen, pocketing the cardamom, and said, "I'm ready if you are."

They went up to the Rogers' apartment, Clint sticking like glue to Bruce's side as the physicist confronted the wailing of Abraham Sifson Rogers in his crib. Bruce picked up Abie and joggled him a bit, as he'd seen the others do so often, and Abie looked at him wide-eyed, and apparently decided that crying was overrated and opted for chewing on his fist instead.

Bruce smiled, and Clint wanted to count that as a win, but the smile was a gentle, broken thing, and it hurt to look at, so Clint didn't count it as anything, just took it in and accepted it. Bruce changed Abie's diaper and then carried the boy into the Rogers' dining room, Clint still following closely and making faces at the kid.

Breakfast went well, and Daire was positively delighted at the prospect of chocolate chip pancakes with bananas and peanut butter on top, and Clint had his with syrup and a side of eggs, and Bruce went with a little of everything.

After that they went out to sit on the patio, which Daire and Abie liked even more than their parents, if that was possible, since they were growing up accustomed to the noise and rhythm of the huge city laid out beneath them. Daire played Mail Delivery Owl with Ivan and pieces of paper very carefully inscribed with "Uncol Clint" and "Uncl Bruse" and "Aby."

She was running back and forth with them as if she were in a mighty hurry, and then she slowed, breathing hard.

Breathing too hard. Her panicked eyes fell on her uncles.

Bruce's eyes widened, and he asked, "Are you all right, Daire?" and Daire shook her head no, and Bruce rushed to her side without a second's hesitation.

She was wheezing pretty badly, and Bruce laid her down with a chair cushion under her head, and told Jarvis to call for paramedics, and then he just talked to Daire, low and steady and calm, telling her that everything was going to be fine and to try to breathe slowly and deeply.

Abie sensed the tension in the air and started to cry, but Clint swooped in and picked him up, bouncing him gently and whispering reassurances. The archer watched Bruce work with calm confidence, because he knew that Daire was in the best hands. One of those very gentle hands sought Daire's forehead, stroking back through her hair in a steady rhythm that would not waver, no matter what strength of emotion Bruce might feel.

Dummy rolled in with the oxygen canister from the infirmary area, and Clint took it from him with a quick "Thanks, buddy" and handed it down to Bruce.

"Daire, I'm going to help you get air, okay? I'm going to put this mask over your nose and it's going to give you more oxygen."

Daire reached for it, and Bruce fitted it as best he could over her small face, and his other hand kept stroking her head, steadily, calmly. Daire's eyes became marginally less wild and panicked as the richer air found its way into her lungs and she didn't need to breathe quite so desperately.

"Paramedics are in the elevator," Jarvis intoned solemnly from overhead.

"Good. Daire, more healers are on their way here, with medicines that will help you breathe. They'll be here very soon. Everything's going to be fine."

Two men and a woman exited the elevator, blue bags in hand. "Sir, please get out of our way," one of them said to Bruce.

Bruce didn't. "I'm a certified first responder with extensive training. She's scared and she knows me. Tell me what to do or work around me."

He kept his voice oh-so-carefully calm and level. The paramedic spoke an acknowledgement and got to work. They asked about how it had happened and her medical history, and Bruce answered quickly, precisely, and without stopping the calming motion of his hand on her head.

"Family history of asthma and other respiratory diseases on her human side. She's half Asgardian, but that doesn't seem to make much of a difference in her physiology. Drugs seem to act the same way on Thor as they would on a human of his size when there's no magical interference."

They decided on her medicine, and then Bruce explained to her that they were going to switch her mask for another one with the medicine in it.

And the whole time, Clint watched Bruce, looking for any sign of loss of control, any danger.

There was none of that.

In fact, Clint recognized in Bruce that ironclad focus, the same way that when Clint was on mission, nothing bothered him because nothing else mattered. The mission was everything. He'd rarely seen it before; it certainly wasn't the way Hulk fought. It was only when someone really needed Bruce's skills, like Daire needed them now.

That was the moment Clint realized that he wanted to marry Bruce.

Kind of an idiotic thing to be thinking about right now, but that never really stopped Clint.

The medicine worked at last, and then Daire was clinging to Bruce, looking miserable and frightened, so he pulled her into his arms and just held her there. And he was nothing but confidence and comfort and safety.

And he didn't let her go again for a long time.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Tony and Loki managed to get themselves together and scramble back from the moon, the paramedics were packing up and the panic had subsided. Tony felt a funny mixture of guilt for not being there, relief that someone else had handled it, and more guilt for the relief and that he'd led Bruce into the situation. But he set his face into a sort of businesslike self-mockery, and all he said was, "Glad it was him, I'd probably have panicked."

"You would have done what was necessary," Loki reassured Tony.

"Psh," Tony said, scrunching up his face. "I'm not that great about dealing with medical stuff, look how bad I do with me. Anyway I was right, Bruce did great, he knows his stuff. And now he and the brat are tight. Look at 'em." He gestured across the room to where Daire was still tucked securely into Bruce's arms. "I would not deal well with that. I have to be building things."

Loki peered at the thing Tony was putting together with his ever-moving hands. "What are you constructing, by the way?" he asked.

"Compact cell tower, in essence," he said, picking up the gangly antennae'd thing and examining it from every angle.

Loki frowned, and said, "Why?"

"Just in case. Steve'll wanna know about this, one way or another. You ready to head out?"

The blue man nodded. "The Bifrost, then?"

"Creepy all-seeing imitator of a statue and all. We might need what he can tell us." He turned to look at the kid cuddled into Bruce's chest again. "We're gonna go try to get ahold of your parents, alright, Daire-bear?"

She nodded firm agreement, then Tony gathered the equipment and moved to Loki's side, and the two of them vanished into the secret ways of Yggdrasil.

As Loki had explained it, such a journey was actually made up of three parts, a jump to the nearest place where the worlds brushed each other, a slide through that singularity, then a final jump to their destination. The energy expended was determined by the distance between the singularity used and the start and end points, as well as the mass carried along. Loki didn't like to make this particular journey too often, but it was an easier trip than, say, Vanaheim, which seemed to have no gates at all in the Western hemisphere.

They appeared on the Bifrost, outside the shining metallic structure where the Gatekeeper stood, and the first thing Tony did was pull out his PERBcomm, dialing Steve's unit.

The team had learned the hard way that it was not always wise to have a wormhole open in your pocket mid-mission, into unknown conditions like contaminants, so the current design of the comms had a lid that was closed by default and a system of ringtones, pretty much like a phone. Tony was unsurprised when he got no answer, as he knew that Steve had expected to be in combat at some point today.

"No answer," he relayed to Loki, who had been conversing quietly with Heimdall. "Steve up to his neck in dragon slayers or what?"

It was Heimdall himself who answered. "Their foes were many, but their numbers are dwindling. I believe your fellow Avengers will soon triumph."

Tony nodded, making a face part thoughtful smile, part grimace. Then he slid open his jury-rigged cell tower and gestured with it. "Any way I could set this up somewhere high up, maybe leave it there, might be handy to have a cell tower here, you think? Could even get you a phone so you could call people yourself, you've watched us enough to get the general idea, right?" He smirked at Heimdall.

"Do what you wish," the helmeted man replied. "Your primitive device will not harm the Bifrost." The tiny lift of the corner of the Gatekeeper's mouth was an acknowledgement of Tony's tendency towards flyting, but neither of them had time right now to truly get into a battle of wits about which world had the better information system. Heimdall gestured to one of the suspension towers that held up the crystal length of the bridge.

Loki thanked the gatekeeper, and led the way up one of the great curving cables that slanted up towards the tops of the towers. Tony followed, equipment in hand, occasionally swearing at the awkwardness of the climb. But eventually they made the top, and Tony set up his device, digging out his cell to give Steve another call.

This time Cap picked up.

"How - nevermind, _why._ Why are you calling me here, Tony? I'm kinda busy."

"Daire had an asthma attack. Well, what looked like one."

Steve stilled, would have gone down right then if Sif hadn't had his back. "Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine, a little freaked, I think. Bruce was right there, Jarvis and the bots helped, modern medicine at the speed of 21st century New York. Josh poked around a little, says it didn't do any damage, but he can't be sure it won't happen again. He suggests you meet up with us in Helheim when you're less busy. Safest place in the galaxy. Sound good to you?"

Steve struggled to process the flood of information that had come out of Tony's mouth. "Helheim."

"Yeah, Josh and I will pop over there with Daire, might bring Bruce and Abie too, we'll negotiate with Sir Rainbow of Brite here about the travel itineraries. And you can get him to send you over when you're ready."

"It's a solid plan," Steve said, struggling to get his head back into the here and now. "We'll meet you there when we can." He hung up his cell phone, giving it one last bemused glance before pocketing it.

Sif was tying up the last of their foes when he could finally register his surroundings properly again.

"Daire had an asthma attack, you remember I told you about those?" Sif nodded, businesslike, but Steve knew her well enough to see the concern that underlay that. "Josh is taking her to Helheim, so she won't have to worry about it happening again before we figure out how to handle it. Tony said to meet them there."

"We will need to deal with things here a little later, then," his husband said, jostling one of the prisoners unnecessarily with her knee to express her displeasure. "Jane's trials will end today. We can send Thor here in our stead."

Steve frowned around at the fallen raiders. "After this, I don't really feel comfortable leaving Reggie's house unguarded, even for a few hours. But Daire needs us."

Hallkatla's head came over the ridge, blinking huge slitted eyes at them. "Go," she said. "We can hold our own homestead for a few hours. I would not trust you with our borders if I had not seen your love for your little ones."

Steve nodded at her. "Thanks for understanding," he said. "We'll send Thor your way as soon as we can."

* * *

Once Tony and Loki had scrambled their way back down from the suspension tower with different amounts of grace, they went to talk to Heimdall.

"So, I guess we're kinda in need of some transport, huh, us and Bruce and the kiddies. Whattya say, can we hitch a ride on your giant rainbow elevator to the stars?"

"As much as I would like to help you," Heimdall said, "you are not a citizen of this realm, and cannot command the use of the Bifrost."

Josh came up by Tony's side. "Speaking of citizenship, did Odin officially reinstate yours after King Loki stripped you of it?" he asked.

Heimdall could tell it wasn't maliciously said, the sparkle in the red eyes indicating only humor and the slightest bit of a push towards leniency, towards twisting the law a little bit more to fit the situation.

So, "No, he never spoke the words," Heimdall said. "I suppose I am no more citizen than you are, if it is the word of a king that does it, and the word of a king that undoes it."

"Then will you, not-citizen, let us not-citizens pass your gates, for today?"

Heimdall considered him for a long moment, then nodded.

Loki sighed in relief. "Then let me conserve my power, and send us back to Earth, then await my word to bring the children and the doctor with us on our way to Niflheim."

"This is a worthy cause," said Heimdall. "I would not deny Sif's children anything that they need."

"And today," replied Loki, "that is all I ask."

Heimdall seated his sword, and Tony, having gawked at the Bifrost in operation the last two or three times he had visited Asgard by it, managed to look somewhat nonchalant as the metal surrounding them began to spin and the wormhole formed in front of them. It would take a particularly observant eye to see how tightly Tony still clung to Loki as the swirling lights whisked them away.

Well, Heimdall had that. And a small smile played over his lips as he watched them go.

Then he turned his eye to where another question of citizenship was being discussed - that of Jane Foster.

* * *

The beast came upon her suddenly, towering over her, and Jane let out an involuntary scream. It turned towards her, its huge, recognitionless, stalking eyes zeroing in on the surce of the noise. She screamed again, scrambling away behind some rocks, where she clapped a hand over her mouth to silence herself.

That thing was the size of at least three destroyers, and dragons were one thing. Dragons could talk. But wildlife? Wildlife was definitely not Jane's thing. Animals were not her area.

Jane was reminded then of all the stuff about good dog breeds with bad reputations that Darcy liked to reblog, and suddenly an overwhelming burst of laughter tried to escape her restraining hand at the image of Rose Witch telling the great beast to sit.

The voice of Odin broke into her scattered thoughts, booming across the arena.

"The human woman, Jane Foster, has failed to show courage in the face of danger. There is no place for her in our society." And on he went like that.

That was crap. They hadn't even given her a proper chance! All defiance, Jane pulled herself together and examined her surroundings.

She saw two huge, close-set outcroppings of stone, gauged the distance between them, their structure and possible composition, and the size of the beast's head. She positioned herself between them and then once again began screaming for all she was worth.

The creature went for it. She could see its huge scaly snout approaching, feel its breath on her face. But she did not run. Her yelling regained that edge of genuine terror, but she did not move away. The thing wriggled into the crevice farther, by inches, unable to reach her but temptingly close.

She took the spear they'd given her and wedged it backwards under the beast's chin - it wouldn't break the tough hide if she tried to fight the beast, but braced as it was against rock at the butt end and the thing's jaw at its tip, she hoped it would discourage the creature from withdrawing its head.

Then, she backed out of the gap between the rocks and climbed up the side of one, tying the red flag around one of the beast's great antlers, as had been her task.

The bilgesnipe thrashed, but cried out in pain, and stilled enough for her to secure the knot. Then she scrambled back.

Odin was still droning on about a warrior's fortitude, but he was interrupted by a wave of cheering from the gathered masses. He struck Gungnir against the stone of his dais for silence before looking around to see what had happened.

Then he stared at the flag clinging to the beast's head as it pulled away from the rocks at last, and at the blood that dripped from its jaw, its own strength having been sufficient to break the tough skin where Jane's could not.

Odin's brow wrinkled as he considered the new circumstances, and Huginn spoke to him of the murmurings of the crowd and Muninn of what the young mortal had managed to do. It was clear what he must say. He cracked Gungnir against the stones again to silence the conversation that had sprung up irrepressibly in the interval of his silence.

"And so the human race continues to surprise us," he said to the eagerly waiting arena. "Jane Foster has completed her final challenge. Therefore, in light of the laws set forth long before my rule, I now judge her courageous, quick-witted, and worthy to stand among the gods and goddesses of Asgard."

A fresh cheer went up, along with some muttering, but that was to be expected. Thor dropped down into the arena, going to Jane and embracing her, and as the guards corralled the beast back to its enclosure, Thor handed his beloved Jane the long-awaited golden apple.

She contemplated it for a moment, then bit into it, chewing thoughtfully, and then with a small amount of perturbation when the flavor fully revealed itself. But she finished it without comment.

"I knew you were brave," he said, leading her out of the arena. "I am glad the Allfather has seen it. This is glad news. But Steven has contacted me with news more grave. Daire is ill, and needs them. Reginunn's family is still in danger. I wish we could celebrate at more length, but I must go. The alliance depends on our protection of their lands."

"Yeah, that's some crap timing," Jane said, frowning. "I'm not happy, but I get it. I've had to bail on you because of my work enough times. Say hi for me, give the dragon babies kisses. Should I head back to Earth?"

"If you wish, but the others are gathering in Helheim. You are now part of the royal family of Asgard," Thor told her earnestly, "and therefore you may command Heimdall to send you anywhere you wish among the Nine."

"Great, another new scary thing to do today," she said, resigned. But then she squeezed Thor's arm and gave him a smile. "All right, go on, get to Reggie's place. If I can handle a rampaging bilgesnipe, I can sure as hell get to Niflheim without an escort."

Thor nodded. I know you can. Do not forget to dress warmly, if you go there without a mage. The cold is bitter."

"Gotcha," she said, kissing him quickly. "Now go!"

Thor stepped away from her reluctantly, swung Mjolnir into a spin, and vanished into the sky.

Jane sighed after him, then went on to where the king and queen stood waiting for her, Odin with congratulations and Frigga with a gleeful embrace. Jane told Frigga what she needed, and quicker than she would have thought possible, she was arrayed in furs and sent off down to the Bifrost. She met Sif and Steve on the way there, thankfully, so they dealt with the still-slightly-scary gatekeeper, while Jane just followed, burrowing into the furs and breathing her relief.

Loki was waiting for the three just outside the gates with a spell to shield them from the cold, so that was nice. The rest were clustered nearby.

"Those apples taste really weird," Jane was saying conversationally as they stepped through the gate.

"They taste as they always have," Sif answered, but her eyes were scanning the group within the walls for her children.

"You passed your trial?" Josh asked Jane.

"I almost didn't," Jane said, wide-eyed, still full of excitement and adrenaline and worry. "They didn't want me to show fear. Well, I'm sorry, but I'm only human. I may have screamed a little bit. Or a lot."

"And yet somehow you met with the Allfather's approval?" Loki narrowed skeptical eyes at her.

"Yeah, well, I did the thing they asked me to do, didn't I? He didn't really give me a chance before he started his speech about how unworthy I was, but I tagged the thing. Big, maybe. Not that intelligent."

Loki managed to look impressed.

Sif had her family in her sights, and she was much relieved.

Abraham was in the arms of Hel, seeming content enough to watch her and the people around them and the fireflies she'd summoned for his entertainment. It was strange to see Hel in what Sif knew was her true form, a slim ten-year-old, carrying Sif's son as if he weighed nothing, even though she knew it was not muscle that supported him here, but magic. She turned her attention to Daire.

Daire still clung to Bruce, but when she saw Steve, she reached for him, and he came straight to her and wrapped an arm around her, enveloping both her and Bruce in a huge hug.

"Mama," said Daire. "I couldn't breathe. It was scary."

"I know, honey," said Steve. "I know."

"It looked like asthma," Bruce said. "Of course, I can't be sure, since it's only happened once, as far as I know. Has she had trouble breathing before?"

"She gets coughs," Steve said worriedly. "But nothing like this, no."

"What can be done?" Sif asked Loki. "Can you heal her?"

"Unfortunately," the sorcerer replied, "I do not believe so."

"Why not?"

"For very similar reasons to the reasons I could never heal Hel," he answered, glancing at his daughter. "This disease is tied too tightly to the immune system, which is resistant to permanent change. Any spell I put in place would eventually unravel. And if Darcy attempted anything, her spell would likely snap back all at once, having no subtlety. The healing spells of hers which are permanent all involve snapping back to a more natural state. It is her gift, and it is powerful, but it is limited."

Sif frowned. "Then what would you suggest?"

"Either she would have to make do with the human medicines that are available on Earth... or she could eat her first apple now."

"Is that wise? They are never given to children. There must be a reason."

"It may slow her growth. There is no way to know. It has not been done in recorded memory."

Tony chimed in here. "But what do you do when something like this happens?"

"It doesn't," Loki answered. "Asgard has the apples, and the healing stones, which are for wounds, and in some ways act much as Darcy does, and a branch of medicine for treating magically-induced illnesses. But human ailments? They simply do not happen."

"And is that the apples?" Steve asked. "Would they stop this?"

"It may very well be the apples. Tony is not only no longer aging, but he also has noticed a significant improvement in his instances of allergies, muscle soreness and other human diseases with a significant inflammatory component."

Tony noticed, for the second time, that Helheim was the only place his boyfriend would speak openly about that stolen apple. Everyone knew, but outside of Helheim Keep, no one spoke of it.

"That makes sense," Bruce replied to Josh. "The controls imposed on the rate of growth, division and healing aren't like what's present in the Serum transformation, but they're there. And before anyone asks about the Serum?" He shot a significant look at Tony, because he was the one Bruce was most worried about actually considering it. "Probably more traumatic than what Daire's already gone through, and more dangerous, even with everything we've learned about it since my misadventure with it. I'd be inclined to suggest human medicine, because that's what I'm comfortable with, but I'm guessing the apples are even more tried and tested, at least on adults?"

Daire leaned against Bruce's chest, Steve's hand on her back and the flow of words calming her slowly but surely, and soon she was looking around curiously, squirming slightly. Bruce handed her off fully to Steve, who hugged her and set her down so she could take a closer look at the illusions Hel was using to entertain her brother.

"Eating the apple has occasionally had side effects," said Loki, "but only for those with no magic available to them, no source of dimensional energy. Daire has less magic than Sif, but she has more than enough. No harm will come to her."

Jane shot Loki a look. "No one ever warned me about that," she said.

"You are quite capable of cobbling together a device that would compensate for the lack, as Tony has, but you will likely not need to. Even in humans, the danger is low. But there is a reason that a test of courage is required to obtain one."

"I don't know, it seems drastic," Steve said. "But sometimes I was sure my body was out to kill me, and I don't want that to be her life."

"The medicine now is much better than it was," Bruce told them. "But it's still scary and uncomfortable, not something you want a little kid to go through if there's an alternative.

"If she does eat the apple, she'll be small," Steve said, "but she'll be _healthy._ Heck, she and her aunt Hel can commiserate about that."

Sif raised her eyebrows at them. "Maybe we should ask her."

* * *

Hel, in her true ten-year-old skin, sat and spoke with Daire. She explained what she could of the options, and what might happen.

"But if you decide to eat the apple, you can never take that back, and you may often wish to. There are many things that a child's body cannot do."

"Is it annoying being always small?" the four-year-old asked.

"It is," the taller girl answered. "And I have been able to control how people see me, for the most part. You will not."

"But Anghamarr will be able to carry me for longer," Daire said. "And the scary thing won't happen again."

"No, you won't be ill anymore," Hel agreed.

"Good," Daire answered. "That was too scary. I don't want it to happen anymore. Being small is okay."

"Then go and tell your parents what you have decided," the queen of Niflheim told the girl.

Daire hopped up, and ran to Steve. "Mama," she said, grabbing his hand, "I want to eat the apple."

"That's a reasonable decision," Steve answered. "I know asthma is scary."

Daire nodded, businesslike.

"Well, that settles that," said Tony. "Let's go get it done."

Joshua shook his head. "It's not always that simple... not if you wish to maintain your standing in Asgard." He gave Sif a look full of significance.

"What do you mean, she's Asgardian, right? Sif's kid, free and clear?" Tony asked, confused annoyance on his face.

"Even Aesir children must go through a trial - more of a ritual - before becoming full citizens," Sif answered. "I had wondered how you planned to circumvent that."

"Oh, very little trickery will be required," Loki said. "All we need do is show the people of Asgard that Daire will do without fear what few of Asgard's stoutest hearts would face without quailing."

All eyes turned to the blue man. Daire squinted at her uncle Josh. "Will I?" she asked him.

"You will indeed, Daire Rogers," he answered, the warmth of Joshua and the mischief of Loki both dancing in his eyes. "You will indeed."


	4. Chapter 4

Black Widow glanced into the room, and for a moment she thought that she'd stepped back in time, or that the similarity of the place to other Red Room facilities was giving her flashbacks.

There was a slim, graceful child, deep auburn hair flying and fine-boned face set in impassivity, running drills, the same motions over and over. She was six or seven, probably seven if she was as similar to Natasha as she seemed. Small and deadly even then.

This was one of the few things that could have made Widow pause in her task, peering through the window intently, unable to look away. It of course occurred to her that that was what they'd planned, the Red Room, leaving the girl where their Black Widow might come across her. But it was too perfect, even for one of the Red Room's ops, to be wholly a lie. The way she moved, Natasha could feel it in her limbs.

Then the child made a misstep and her face blossomed with anger and frustration and defiance.

Natasha felt something deep in her chest when she saw that; this child wasn't her, not quite. They'd broken her of that kind of emotional response before she was five. This child, she still had part of her spirit.

Black Widow decided she was going to throw the mission.

"Sitwell," she said to the man in her ear. "I'm going off script."

"This is our best chance to reach our objective," he said. "If you stick to the plan."

"Screw the objective," she said calmly but decisively. "What I just found is more important."

"This was your mission, Widow," Sitwell said, annoyed. "You pitched it hard. Now you don't want to get it done? Great. Fine." Sitwell took a breath. "Okay. What did you find?"

"A second chance," was all she said before opening the door.

* * *

Thor stood before the people of Asgard, administering today's challenge in his father's place, since he knew best what was to come and his reassurances would be more convincing. His voice rang out across the huge open space.

"Please be assured that this is merely a demonstration," he said, "and I would remind you of the rules that a challenge for citizenship may not be interrupted."

There was muttering from the crowd, probably much like Fandral, who, standing beside Thor, said impatently, "Yes, yes, we're all familiar with the GAAH! DRAGON! THAT IS A DRAGON!"

"Leave him be! He is a part of Daire's challenge, and no more." Thor spoke to Fandral, placing himself in front of his friend, but the spell still carried his voice through the whole place.

There was muttering, and a few yells, but no one moved to interfere. Then Daire entered the arena, Taking quick but short strides on her little legs, wearing the garb, not of a human or of an Asgardian child, but of an asgardian warrior, armor and all. She looked like a miniature version of her father.

Anghamarr stretched out his long, shimmering purple neck towards her, bringing his nose into her path, and the crowd gasped. Daire didn't hesitate, but marched up to the huge snout, and patted it with one small hand.

Anghamarr's eyes crinkled, and Daire smiled back, and walked past his head and neck to his shoulderblades, where her regular harness was strapped into place. She climbed up and tightened the catches herself, which her parents or uncles usually did, but was not actually much challenge to her half-Aesir strength. When she was done, she gave Anghamarr's shoulder a tap, and he launched into the air. Daire grinned.

The Aesir watched, disbelieving. Anghamarr was a known fighting dragon, and had fought, injured and killed many Aesir in his lifetime, and stories were told of that scarred snout, and the wide curve of purple wings which shaded to deep red at the clawe tips. Seeing him flying over Asgard's capital was a spectacle in itself. It was unbelievable that the child had such sway over him.

Anghamarr flew up, showing his full length and wingspan to the gathered Aesir, hovered for a moment high over the arena, and then looped down and around, gliding over the crowd. Daire laughed delightedly, and waved when they passed those she knew, the king and queen, Volstagg and Hildy and their children, her parents and honorary uncles and aunt, her horseback riding teacher (who was blinking up at the illustration of how his lessons were being put to use) and other acquaintances.

They wouldn't take a long ride, as this was for illustration purposes, and the longer Anghamarr flew above the capital, the greater risk he took. So he set down in the middle of the arena again, so the girl could dismount.

They faced each other again, and Daire saluted him in the Aesir way, and said, "Thank you, Anghamarr."

The purple dragon bowed his head and tipped his wings in return. "Always a pleasure, Lady Daire," he answered. And the dragon turned and disappeared back through the gate where he had entered.

The crowd's voices rose like a wave, exclaiming and challenging and debating and generally expressing their shock and confusion. Thor called for silence, and the people turned to listen.

"I assure you that what you have just witnessed was in no way counterfeit. Daire has faced the dragon Anghamarr without fear. She has proven herself, and on behalf of the throne of Asgard, I now declare her, Daire Sifdottir, a full citizen of Asgard, with all the rights and priveleges thereof."

The Avengers present began the cheer, and it rippled through the crowd, healthy, if not overwhelming.

Sif was the one who went down to greet her daughter, and she lifted the tiny armored girl up, over her head, so she could properly receive the applause. Then Daire was set down, and, hand in hand with her father, left the arena.

Steve met them past the doors, and swept Daire up and peppered her with kisses, and made sure that she wasn't too overwhelmed by the attention. But Daire seemed to bask in it, thrilled and chattering away about everything she'd seen, about how different the capital was from the dragon-wilds when seen from above (she used the word "sparkly" several times) and how the crowd had cheered.

Bruce had cut the apple for Daire, little manageable chunks but with the skin-side up to show the gold glimmer they shone with.

"Even my snacks are sparkly today!" Daire declared, and took a piece, doing a little wriggly dance before she ate it.

Steve took a moment to appreciate that even if his daughter stayed as small as she was now for years to come, she would not stay this delightfully playful and guileless. He hugged her tight.

Daire stuck her tongue out in consternation, but didn't spit. "Skin tastes like pennies," she said.

"I know, honey. You gotta eat the whole thing, though."

And Daire did, determinedly, make her way through the whole apple before they all adjourned to the Bifrost, and said their private congratulations and farewells. Sif was to join Hogun in defending the dragons again, Jane and Thor would remain in the capital to help deal with the political fallout of Anghamarr's appearance and to serve as Sif's backup if it were needed, and the rest would return to Earth and to Stark Tower.

* * *

Black Widow never checked in with Sitwell again that mission.

Everything was for the benefit of the girl, Beatrix, she called herself, and getting her out of this place. Bea leapt at the opportunity to escape her training, to go with someone who clearly knew the business but didn't point out Bea's every shortcoming.

Natasha had very little trouble convincing her to come.

Bea didn't trust her, of course. Bea didn't trust anyone. But Bea pretended to trust her long enough to get to New York. Nat didn't mention SHIELD, dodged any agents that might be trying to get information on what she was doing. Nat brought Bea as far as Stark Tower, gave Jarvis a hand signal to be silent when she passed the first of his cameras, took the girl straight to her floor, and then told Beatrix that they were safe, and the next move was up to her.

Bea had never had such a wide open choice in her short life.

"Is this a trick?" the girl said. "What do you want me for? Stop messing around and tell me so I can get it done."

Natasha just shook her head, offered Bea the shower first and three choices of clothing, combinations of her own clothes and things she'd picked up along the way. Bea didn't choose but went straight for the shower, because it was easy, because it could be taken like an order. Natasha knew exactly where her head was right now, and she hated it.

She hoped there was still a chance for Bea to unlearn those habits more easily than she had.

* * *

Clint was hanging out on Bruce's, now his and Bruce's floor, just sitting flipping through the channels on the TV. Jarvis hadn't given him a heads-up that Natasha was approaching, that she was in the building; he hadn't even known she was back in the States. But there she was, coming around the corner by the door, face both warning and bizarrely hesitant.

"Nat, what...?"

And then there was another pair of eyes on him, peering around Natasha's hip, and the mess of deep red hair, the tiny cold-eyed face, made the bottom fall out of his world.

He turned off the TV and leaned towards them, eyes on the smaller face, but looking out for Tasha's state as well.

"Hey, darling," the archer greeted Beatrix.

"I'm not a kid," Bea said, expression mild but tone allowing for no objections. "So you don't have to talk to me like one."

"I can see that," Clint answered agreeably enough. "Neither is Nat there, is she, and she's still my darling deadly girl. Aren't you, Natasha?"

Natasha snorted. Beatrix smiled, tiny and crooked.

"You found the Red Room," Clint stated.

Natasha nodded, small and tight.

"But that is not the teacher of yours you went in to find."

"No, she's not. Her name is Beatrix. Tell me you see it too."

"They cloned you."

There was a moment of silence while they all took in the implications of this. Nat and Bea looked at each other appraisingly, having heard from a third party what they'd increasingly suspected over the last few days.

"Or as good as," Nat said finally. "I figured Bruce could run some tests; I know he understands the need for discretion with biological samples."

Clint smiled in a way that was a little off. "He's not home right now. Daire was here for a visit with us, but she had an asthma attack and all the genius-level Avengers went to Helheim for a science-magic powwow. Just me right now."

"All the better, for now." Natasha sat down next to him on the sofa. She didn't inquire about Daire. She was in the best hands, and concern about her was for later. "Clint. I don't know what to do with her."

"That's a lie," Beatrix said. "You brought me here. You must want me for something."

"Yes," answered Natasha. "I want redemption for myself. But I don't know how to get it."

* * *

They eventually made the call to tell her about Jarvis, introduce him and make it known that if she went for any weapons or ran, he would inform them. Beatrix didn't seem inclined to test that, happy enough to be in a place where she didn't have to run drills or simulations. Natasha made sure to avoid all the signal behaviors she knew so well, very intentionally lounging and relaxing her vigilance as she only could in the Tower, and then only on certain floors. Beatrix watched her carefully, trying to follow her lead.

Natasha and Clint slept in shifts, a habit ingrained in them while on mission, and in some ways this very much felt like a mission. Clint slept first, suspecting that while he did, Beatrix would test the boundaries and Natasha would shut her down; he knew he'd be safe.

He kept the second watch, and by this time Beatrix was exhausted; she and Natasha ended up sleeping propped up, back-to-back, on one side of the sofa. It looked very strange and yet totally natural; it was unheard of for Natasha to sleep in such close proximity to anyone who she had known for less than a week.

But Beatrix in her rumpled blue tunic and black leggings, and Natasha in a black v-neck and tan yoga pants, sat slumped against each other, auburn hair blending indistinguishably, as unguarded as they ever were, as if they knew each other inside and out, which, he supposed, in a way, they did.

Clint's gut twisted with worry, tension and something like envy, wondering what was going to happen to their family.

There was a soft click as the apartment door opened, Bruce stepping as softly as he could and stopping in the living room doorway, looking over the scene with perceptive calm.

Clint grinned hugely at him, lifted himself off the couch and crossed the room as silently as a trained sniper and spy could. Once in the doorway, he wrapped his arms around his boyfriend, smiling the warm welcome that Bruce associated with home. "It's good to see you," he murmured in the scientist's ear. "Daire doing okay?"

"Yeah, and it's some story," Bruce said, returning the smile and the embrace, breathing in the familiar scent of Clint. "But it looks like you've got one of your own."

"Yeah, well, it's mostly Nat's, but the gist of it? She was out looking for some old contacts back in Russia, and she found something she didn't know they'd taken from her."

"Clone?" Bruce asked.

"That's what we're thinkin'," Clint answered, voice shading back into the serious. "You're the only one Nat'd trust to do the tests."

"You think she would?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah, she knows you're solid," Clint answered, kissing Bruce lightly. "I'd be more worried about Beatrix there. She's paranoid, of course, and she's no slouch at defending herself. I haven't seen it in person," Clint added as Bruce shot him a concerned glance. "But I can see it when she moves, and she and Nat had to fight their way out of the place they were keeping her. And the way Nat tells it, kid could've gotten out alone if she'd made up her mind to leave."

Bruce breathed into Clint's hair for a minute, then shot another glance at the two redheads on the sofa. "What's the plan? She'll need help, therapy, stability, normalcy. As much as any of that's possible."

"We're just focusing on trying to get her not to bolt," Clint answered. "And I don't think Nat's sure of anything right now. But I'm gonna do what I can."

Bruce nodded. "Good," he said. "Right behind you on that." He sighed. "Daire... well, we came up with a unique solution to her problem. We don't think she'll have any more attacks, but we'll keep an inhaler around anyway."

Clint frowned at the worry that was still on his boyfriend's face. "How unique?"

"She might stay little for a while longer," the scientist answered.

"What, like a few years?"

"Like a few decades," Bruce answered. "Or she might age relatively normally. We're really not sure."

Clint squinted thoughtfully. "That... is a long time to stay three feet tall."

"Daire seemed to get that, though. She's really inclined to see the bright side."

"Yeah, she's a regular ray of sunshine," agreed Clint. "She back here? What's the count in the Tower?"

"Tony, Josh and Steve are here, and both his kids," Bruce answered. "Sif, Jane and Thor stayed on Asgard. The dragon issue is coming to a head, and we'd like to do something about it sooner rather than later. Steve suggested a brainstorming session over breakfast, but if you need to be here with Beatrix..."

Then Clint felt an eye on him from the couch. He glanced over, and Beatrix blinked back at them. She tensed up as she saw the unfamiliar face, and Nat woke then, turning to the doorway, quick as blinking. She saw the two of them entwined, and relaxed again. "He's okay," Natasha told Bea. Bruce felt warmed that she'd say that.

"Whattya think, Nat?" Clint raised his voice to be audible across he room. "You two up for team breakfast?"

Natasha looked at Bea, and for a moment her eyes were sharp and cold. "You've got options," she told the girl, "but hurting the team is not one of them. I'll be watching you; so will Jarvis. Understand?"

Bea thought it through, then nodded. "Priority principals? How many?"

Natasha reached for her phone and used it to prompt Jarvis to bring images up on the TV. "J, table count for this morning, photos and publicly known powers." They started with Abie and Daire, Nat making it clear that the two of them were top tier, most important to protect.

Bruce watched them talk about the close-knit family that lived here in the cold violence-drenched terms that were ingrained into their ways of thinking, and anger roiled in his core and tingled in his hands, but not anger at them. Never at them. Only at the people who would use them the way they had been trained to be used, without thought to the fact that they were people. A helpless position he could relate to all too well.

Then Clint squeezed him tighter, regaining his attention. "So, breakfast here?" the archer asked. "Kinda craving spicy sausage and hash browns. Think you can work that in somewhere?"

Bruce smiled, and let Clint drag him off to their kitchen, where he set his boyfriend to work washing and cutting potatoes, onions and peppers while Bruce started prepping the sausage and eggs.

It was going to be an interesting day.


	5. Chapter 5

Bruce tried to focus on the meal, on Clint beside him, but he couldn't help keeping an ear out for what might be going on in the other room. When Avengers began to trickle in, he listened to the introductions, first Cap, Daire, then Tony, and then Josh and Abie, who was in the blue man's arms.

"You're a liar," Beatrix remarked then, and Bruce couldn't stop himself from poking his head around the corner to see what was happening. Bea's eyes were narrowed slightly as she looked at Loki, but she wasn't visibly tense. "Joshua's not who you are."

"And what will you do about it?" Loki asked her, denying nothing.

"I've been told Abraham takes priority over you," she answered, gesturing to the brown-haired boy in Loki's arms who was staring at her curiously. "If you prove yourself a danger to him, I'll kill you."

"Good," said Josh, giving her a smile both warm and calculating.

"But don't take that as a go-ahead or anything, Kiddo," Tony said to her, wrapping arms around Josh from behind. "I'm kinda attached to both of 'em." His words, smirk and unworried expression as he said them really didn't sit well with Bea.

"That epithet?" she said, looking at him witheringly. "You clearly don't take me seriously enough."

Tony just looked back, somehow shrugging with just his face. "And _you_ clearly have not seen Kill Bill," he replied.

Beatrix just shook her head, eyes skeptical.

"Of course not, seeing special effects enhanced stage fighting would interfere with training," Natasha said. Then she looked to Bea with the quirk of a smile. "But trust me, it's appropriate. Stark doesn't miss much."

Beatrix looked thoughtful. "So he must not care as much as he says he does whether I kill the man calling himself Joshua."

"No, that's not it," Natasha corrected her. "Tony trusts his boyfriend to take care of himself."

Bea nodded acknowledgement of the warning, and the truth that was present in the label, if not in the name. He was one of the principals, then, and not an impostor. They knew him for what he was, they just weren't telling her about it.

She still watched the man closely, a threat Natasha respected with the most helpless of the principals in his arms.

Bruce started bringing out the food then, calling people to the table, and they came, Steve saying how good it smelled and Daire exclaiming over the presence of cherries and Natasha making sure to thank both Bruce and Clint for their work, but then smacking Clint affectionately and calling him whipped.

"So, down to business, what's the plan looking like so far?" Tony said, sliding into a seat and looking at the food hungrily. "Oh wow, Bruce, if all the meetings I had to go to came with food this good, I'd show up a lot more of the time."

"Transporting Anghamarr to the city today went very smoothly," Loki said. "The path was a good one. However, if I am to teleport the children and a seed hoard, I will not have the energy left to keep three adult dragons invisible for the last leg, to the Bifrost."

"Darcy can teleport too, right?" Steve asked him.

"Not as reliably as I, nor with as much mass, nor can she manage convincing invisibility," Loki said with resignation. "As much as she has improved, I would not entrust her with either task."

"You could take all six of them the way you took Anghamarr," Bruce suggested.

"Some of the realms we traveled through on our way would hardly be safer for the young dragons than the outskirts of the Aesir homelands," Josh said, shaking his head. "The beasts that inhabit the deep woods of Nidaveillr will gladly prey on young dragons. Full-grown and battle-scarred serpents at least give them pause."

"What is 'dragon' code for?" Beatrix asked.

"Nothing," Clint answered. "Believe it or not, just what it sounds like. Great big flying lizards that can talk. Not that I've seen 'em myself. Just the pictures."

"Have you seen them?" Beatrix asked Natasha.

"Not in person, no," the Black Widow answered. "But I trust the word of my team."

"You claim to have seen?" Bea asked the rest of the room.

"Yup," said Tony. "What, a couple hours ago? Hell of a sight."

Bruce only nodded agreement.

"I've been spending a lot of time with the friends we're talking about," Steve said.

"And you?" Beatrix asked Loki, acknowledging, if not his honesty, at least his lack of gullibility.

"I have seen dragons. I have spoken to dragons. I have fought dragons. I have killed dragons." His voice had a curious flatness to it, but it didn't quite sound like a lie.

She shook her head. "What have they been fed?" she asked Natasha.

"Hey," said Clint, "yeah, it's a little weird to hear about at first, but the universe has been getting bigger every day, right? Why not dragons?"

"Don't do that! Don't try to confuse me. It won't work. THERE IS NO SUCH THING AS DRAGONS!"

"Please don't yell in my house," Bruce said, cool as you please, but there was power in his voice and Beatrix barely avoided flinching.

"There are so dragons," Daire responded, approaching Bea, and Beatrix blinked at the girl a head shorter even than her. Daire continued, unperturbed by Bea's darting, lashing glances at the faces around her. "Some of them are my friends."

Bea scoffed. "Imaginary friends. You're a kid, not a soldier. Nothing you say is worth listening to."

Daire glared back at the taller girl. "I am a warrior of Asgard," she said, echoing her father's tone perfectly. "Do not insult my friends."

Bea looked her over, evaluating her stance. "That's not a real thing. You've had no training. You're just a kid, playing games."

The blue-skinned man handed Abie off to Tony and came to stand behind Daire, standing at his full height but not as if it was protective - rather as if Daire were a warleader and he her soldier. And Loki knew how to stand. "Daire is the equal of any Asgardian warrior. She faced her trials. She's earned her apple."

"And _now,_" the sweet round-faced girl with golden-brown curls said, glaring at Beatrix defiantly, "I'm not afraid of ANYTHING."

Bea looked up into Loki's red eyes. "The way you indulge her is sickening." A rote phrase; she'd heard it before, but didn't quite know what it was supposed to mean.

"I don't lie," Loki said simply. "Not about this."

It didn't make sense.

"What crazy impossible place did you bring me to?!" Bea swung around, glaring at Natasha. "What kind of test is this, what are the parameters, what do you want _now?_ Tell me!"

Natasha could only look at her with concern, because she knew of no acceptable answer, no proof of what it had taken her so long to learn, that sometimes there was no mission, no trick, no order in life.

Bruce had moved out of his chair, closer to Bea, and that just made her angrier, because like Daire, he clearly had little or no combat training, but he moved with utter confidence, his eyes saying that he was the shield, that she would not get through him to hurt the others.

But it made _no sense._

"Which is the lie, your body or your eyes?" she asked, turning on him and snarling.

"Body," he answered calmly. "You read about us." He gestured at himself.

Bea shook her head. Yes, Natasha had told her about the Hulk with a straight face, and she'd reserved her judgement on whether it was misinformation. But this was too much to believe.

"Who doesn't know about the Hulk?" Tony asked with slightly widened eyes. "Brucey, I clearly haven't been bugging the PR people enough. My science bro needs a spotlight."

"Black Widows, they keep in isolation," Natasha said with a sort of distant thoughtfulness. "We... dont believe or disbelieve anything until we see it, and we're given only the information we need for the next mission." She looked at Bea. "But somebody caught you with fairy tales, and they made a mistake. They came down on you for believing in them. They should have treated it like any other intel. Instead, they gave you the gift of doubt."

"They're full of things that don't make sense. They're _silly,_" Bea spat, eyes still on Bruce.

"Like the world outside the Red Room," Natasha answered. "Clint... he was too ridiculous to be real. It was what got me to stop, and listen to him. He was something I didn't understand." She gave the archer a subtly fond look.

"How do you explain what doesn't make _sense? Why_ did you _bring_ me here?"

"Not being sure about things is okay," Bruce told her, inching closer. "When you're around people you trust."

"_No,_ it's _not_ okay," she said, and lunged for Bruce.

The whole room moved, Josh caught up Daire and moved back, Tony joining him, eyes hardening and arms tightening around Abie. Natasha and Steve moved between her and the other children, and Clint stayed where he was, watching, but his hand moved to a concealed weapon.

It was the consistency of that reaction that convinced her that they were most likely what they said they were, and when she barrelled into Bruce all her conviction and intention was gone, and she was all confusion and frustration and anger. Bruce made a little "oof" noise, but didn't otherwise react to the attack, instead placing gentle hands on her head and shoulder, and she kept hitting him but not with strikes meant to injure. But strikes were the only thing she knew.

"Bea," he said, "I'd like you to stop."

Her face twisted with confusion and pain, but her small fists at last came to a halt, and soon after she found herself caught up in warm, protective arms, one hand rubbing up and down her back.

She continued her token struggle, because what was she if she didn't fight, but no one here was like that, not even Natasha. The older Black Widow trusted these people, trusted Bruce; Daire sat proud and unflinching in Loki's arms, not ashamed to be protected; no one here was only as valued as their capacity for violence. So Beatrix's thrashes relaxed into sobs, and she clung to Bruce's shirt, shaking.

The warm arms tightened around her slightly, and the motion against her back continued, and she turned herself inside out with crying.

Gradually everyone returned to their places at the table, Tony handing off a worried and whimpery Abie to Steve and returning to his plate, Natasha continuing her meal as if nothing of note had happened, and Bruce finding his place again and setting her in his lap, although for the moment he ignored his food, just sitting and holding her.

Bea lifted her face after a while and found herself looking at Clint, sitting beside Bruce and watching him - not her, but him - watchful and fascinated. There was something warm in that look that embodied the whole strangeness of this place.

She decided there was nothing more she could do to fight that strangeness. And for the first time in a long time, Beatrix of the Black Widow program truly relaxed.

* * *

Eventually everyone settled and conversation resumed, and Beatrix decided that since Daire had remained on Joshua's lap to eat, it wouldn't be a terrible offense to the customs of these people if she remained where she was, as well. Bruce didn't seem to mind. Clint passed her a plate with a little of everything on it, and she ate carefully, not wanting to disturb Bruce or get in the way of these people now that she'd decided to study them more.

"We've got other ways of making things invisible," Tony was saying. "Retroreflective vehicles, something like that work?"

"The paths between worlds are barely wide enough to allow an adult dragon on its own," Joshua said, shaking his head. "I am forced to reconsider Darcy for that leg of the journey. Her illusions are not perfect, but they may prove adequate, and her nonlethal combat skills are better than mine, if it comes down to that."

"Hey, hey, brainwave," Tony said, talking over the end of Josh's sentence. "We could put the kiddies in a plane, then all go together. Plane'll keep them safe, you can hide the big lizards, Darcy can just be backup."

Loki looked at his lover with grudging approval. "That is... an interesting option. And if something were to go wrong before the last run for the Bifrost, I could still teleport them. But how long will it take to acquire such a vehicle and transport it there?"

"If you could give me the dimensions we need to stay within, I'll know what we've got to work with. I might have something lying around that could work..."

They continued refining the plans, and Tony left the table early, muttering about dimensions and lift capacity, and with a hastily constructed wrap that had been made by Steve and shoved into his hands by Josh, because otherwise Tony was unlikely to eat during what promised to be a long bout of engineering.

The others discussed the lineup, Tony, Josh and Darcy obviously, and perhaps Sif, as a competent warrior and well-respected citizen of Asgard (she also got along well with Heimdall; he'd been indispensable in her training and had come to think of her as family).

Bruce, Clint, Natasha and Steve and his kids would be staying here, and someone named Peter would be returning to the tower later that day in company with the Darcy they'd mentioned. At Bea's curious look, Clint brought up the profiles for the rest of the household on his phone, as well as the six dragons that were soon to join the team, but live on a separate nearby piece of property.

"Shield's cleared the three adult dragons for asset status, and all six as residents," Natasha was saying. "But we still have the public to deal with. Photographs and stories are one thing, but what happens when they actually see giant lizards flying over their city?"

"We just hope like heck that nobody panics," Clint said. "And we keep an eye out. Costumed Avenger escort at all times. If they're flying, Tony or Thor. Cap, you, Sif and the kids want to relocate to the mansion while they're settling in? They might appreciate a familiar face."

"It's a good plan," Steve answered. "Is the place ready?"

"It is indeed," Jarvis answered. "I have been installed, and initial modifications for dragon occupancy have been completed. Mister Stark wished to do more, but reason prevailed in this instance. The carriage house has been reinforced and updated for the dragons, and the mansion itself has been made ready to serve as a backup residence for the more humanoid Avengers. However, it contains only two kitchens, one in the public area and a second in the Barton-Banner apartment. Your family's private living area is on the fourth floor, and consists of only four adjoining rooms and one bath."

"That's plenty," Steve said, thinking first of the tiny apartment he'd lived in growing up, and then of the barracks and camps he'd been used to for the rest of his twentieth-century life. Having three homes, all with the richness of either Aesir nobility or Stark wealth, was honestly kind of overwhelming.

"We're gonna have a house with Javvie _and_ dragons?" Daire asked excitedly. "Can we stay there all the time, Mama?" Her face dimpled as she considered this prospect.

"No, sweetie," Steve answered. "Daddy still has to be on Asgard sometimes. And your horse is still there, and Volstagg and Hildy's kids. You wouldn't want to stop seeing them, right?"

"No," answered Daire, slightly quashed but still content to play with the cherry halves on her plate.

"Why did you call him 'Mama'?" Beatrix asked Daire. "He's clearly a man."

Daire put on her informative-face; she'd been asked this question before. "Abie and me have a special family. We have a man-mama and a lady-daddy."

"But why?" the other child asked. "They look like regular people." There had been a picture of Sif in the second round of profiles.

"Because Asgard," she said, and rolled her eyes.

Steve explained further. "Because Sif has an image to maintain on her world, and being a mother isn't really compatible with that," he said.

Bea put that away with all the other things she didn't understand about this place, for later examination. She needed more information, and getting it wasn't going to be simple. It wasn't going to be fast.

She decided this was an exercise in patience and observation, and settled in to wait and watch.


End file.
